


Two : Lang Leav, Love and Misadventures : I Remember the Hues in our Eyes / When he Promised to Stay

by spilled_ink



Series: The First and The Last [2]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Incredible Hulk - All Media Types
Genre: A teacup full of sad, F/M, Focus on colour, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied Relationships, Male-Female Friendship, One-Sided Relationship, Reader-Insert, There Are No Endings Either, there are no happy endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-07
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-02-03 18:52:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1754559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spilled_ink/pseuds/spilled_ink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's funny how the fleeting moments replay in our head with the brightest light and leave the strongest afterglow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two : Lang Leav, Love and Misadventures : I Remember the Hues in our Eyes / When he Promised to Stay

**Author's Note:**

  * For [asphoria](https://archiveofourown.org/users/asphoria/gifts).



He makes a strange noise and it catches in his throat, catches her attention and she turns to him, their eyes meeting; hers sparkle with black light and his fade into a muddy darkness. The sizzle and burn hangs in the air, the atmosphere heavy with untold feeling and the inability to express what he so desperately wants to say. He takes a second to collect his thoughts.

 

“I don’t know what to tell you except that my love for you is like the cosmos; endless, infinite and more beautiful than anyone can imagine.”

 

“Bruce…?"

 

“You gave me so much to live for, so much to want, so much to hope for. I would have told you that you are my shooting star because you made my wishes come true but shooting stars are nothing more than pieces of burning rock and we both know that you… you are so much more than that.”

 

“Bruce, what’s wrong?”

 

“You hate the colour of your eyes; they are as dark as the shadows of your past, the gloom of your present and the ever present threat of your future. You hate them for the same reasons that love them; for the battles you’ve won, the struggles you’re facing and the victories that you still have awaiting you…”

 

“Bruce, don’t-”

 

“And I’m so sorry that I won’t be there to see you paint your canvas with a million brightly coloured lights and those floating flames you love so much, the same lights that I saw in your eyes when I promised you that I’d stay.”

 

“Bruce, please don’t do this-”

 

“I can’t  not  do this.” He lets his hand fall from her face and turns away as he steels himself for the final blow, the deciding factor.

 

A hand on his sleeve makes him pause, her light voice, breaking under the strain of trying to sound calm and collected makes him look her in the eye. He tries to say something to make it easier, less painless, but she beats him to it.

 

“I remember black and brown and a million fireworks in between and colour so bright that I had to squint to see your face. I remember light so white it burned but it burned in the best way possible and I found myself basking in the afterglow. I remember you and me as two tiny black dots in a vast sheet of white, fighting to stay visible, fighting to remain us, fighting to remain as we were. I remember the way my colours reflected in your eyes and we shared a light, we shared our hues. I remember brilliance and beauty and I remember the hues in our eyes when you promised to stay. I remember it in far better technicolour than you ever could.”

 

She turns her face away and speaks to the wind. “Please don’t do this to me.”

 

He doesn’t speak, simply turns her head with a gentle finger under her chin until their eyes meet again.

 

Brown.

 

Brown, murky. Brown, dark. Brown eyes like tepid coffee that has long gone cold and has been long since forgotten.

 

Black.

 

Black, coal. Black, lightless. Black eyes that are rival only to the dark night sky when it has no starts to light it up.

 

The colours are fading fast.

 

Their colours are long gone.

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking Bruce Banner as in the Mark Ruffalo version because that's the version I've come to love but it can be any Bruce Banner that you want. 
> 
> On another note . . . I don't think I've ever heard you promise to stay and I'd never try to force it (in the end you know what's best for you) but when that's all said and done, all the little things will be the brightest and biggest for me. Your colour will never be black nor will your soul because you have every shade of the world in you; you simply have to sort them out.


End file.
